Panned Cakes
by x.Radish.x
Summary: "I sifted the flour," he announced in a tone of great self-importance. "I'm better at sifting than Minion."


This is my first MM attempt, so be gentle, please.

Dreamworks owns all characters, not me.

* * *

Bathed in a patch of sunlight, Roxanne awoke to a tangled knot of empty sheets beside her. More alarming, however, was the scent of something burning that met her nostrils in an overpowering wave. Dazed by dreams still fading, she wriggled up onto her elbows to stare blearily at the bedroom door, which stood ajar.

Her first thought was that Megamind must be cooking up something catastrophic in the pits of his lair; most likely something she wouldn't approve of. Deciding she'd deal with him later, she pulled the covers over her head and began to doze. It was one of her only days off, after all.

When the scent did not diminish, her tired mind whispered something more alarming than a potentially evil invention: this was not, in fact, Megamind's bed. Much less his lair. After all, his sheets were not patterned with tiny pink daisies.

Rocketing upward in a flurry of tousled bangs and bundled blankets, she swept panicked eyes over the room. Indeed, a lack of spikes and black paint confirmed her fears; that this was not Megamind's home, but her own, and that the acrid scent of smoke could only be emanating from the kitchen. Either that, or Megamind had been shooting flies with his laser and set her curtains alight. Again.

"What's going on out there?" she hollered in alarm. "What did you ruin?"

In reply to the sound of her voice, there was the sound of a frypan hitting the tiles and a frustrated shout, and then the rapid patter of light footsteps up the hall.

"Finally!" Megamind said delightedly, poking his large head around the door. "You're awake!" He stepped around it and drew himself up to look more self-important than usual; no mean feat, in nothing but angry face pyjama bottoms. Roxanne let her eyes linger on his sleek torso for a moment before she met his imperious gaze.

"I," he declared proudly, "have made you cake."

Roxanne's eyes travelled from his smug smile to the tray he balanced upon his slender hands, and the smouldering, charcoaled mound that balanced precariously atop it. She quirked an eyebrow.

"That's cake?" she enquired, meeting his now slightly hopeful eyes and receiving a wide smile. As exuberant as ever, he rushed to sit beside her, brandishing his wares tantalisingly beneath her nose. Roxanne held her breath.

"Actually," he announced, "this is not just any cake. It is a panned cake. Minion told me that panned cakes are a popular breakfast delicacy, and slightly more nutritious than popp-ed tarts and loops of fruit."

Roxanne smothered a smile. "Pancakes," she repeated, eyeing the mound with uncertainty. She hoped he wouldn't make her eat any.

"Yes! Did…is that right? Panned cake?" he asked, his smile slipped. The way he was so eager to please her still broke her heart. "You know, like a normal cake but cooked in a pan. And considerably flatter."

Roxanne leaned forward to kiss his bare shoulder comfortingly. "I know what a pancake is," she assured him. "I've just never had one…flame grilled."

Megamind looked indignant. "I did not grill these!" Then, in a sulkier tone, "You told me I wasn't allowed to use the grill."

The clank of metallic joints made them aware of Minion's presence as he came to stand in the doorway. He wore a floral apron that Roxanne recognised as her own. "Sir, that's because you managed to set the oven on fire."

Megamind scowled darkly. "Minion! I told you to go back to the lair. I have this under control now." He rolled his eyes at Roxanne as if to say 'can you believe him?'

Minion sighed in exasperation. "Sir, I was just going to tell you that I think Miss Ritchi is politely trying to imply that pancakes are not supposed to be…black."

In his own mechanical hands, he held a tray similar to Megamind's, adorned with a pink rose in a vase and a pile of crispy brown pancakes doused in maple syrup.

"That's not true!" Megamind blustered, determined not to be outdone. "She- I… Roxanne was just about to eat them, and with an expression of great enjoyment! Weren't you, Roxie!"

Roxanne patted his arm. "No, I wasn't."

She smiled at the smug look on Minion's scaly face and the childish frown on Megamind's. "She likes me better than you," Megamind said feebly to his gloating friend. "And in my defence, I stole that rose from an old woman's garden myself!" At the look on Roxanne's face, he amended, "I mean I _bought_ it with my own money from a store in a very non-evil fashion!"

Minion stepped closer and rested the tray on Roxanne's lap, taking the charcoaled pancakes from Megamind's hands. Trying tactfully to hide his gloating expression, he turned to walk away. "I'll take these back to the brainbots, Sir," he said. "See you later, Miss Ritchi." Then he strolled from the room, still glowing with his victory. Roxanne heard him whistling before the door slammed behind him.

Megamind slumped with the weight of his deflated ego. "Do you at least like the flower?" he asked her. Roxanne kissed him sweetly on the tip of his nose.

"Of course. It's lovely."

His chest puffed out and he smiled haughtily. "I knew you would. Minion is not as mentally developed in the field of horticulture." He glanced at the glistening pile of perfect pancakes. "Also, I sifted the flour for those. I can sift better than Minion."

"Well," Roxanne smiled. "I'd better try them, then."

Megamind scooted backward and crossed his legs before him, watching her keenly. He bit his lip and gripped her toes in wide-eyed anticipation. "Yes! Do!"

She did, delicately placing a sliver of pancake upon her tongue. She chewed happily. "Delicious," she concluded. He clapped his hands gleefully.

"I knew it! It's the flour."

"Here, you have some," she offered. He took the knife and fork from her and shovelled a bite into his mouth. A look of great contentment stole over his face and he closed his eyes. Roxanne waited patiently, her mouth curled into a crooked smile.

"Do you admit defeat?" she asked teasingly. He shook his head vehemently in a no, and went back to rolling the pancake over his tongue.

"Mm," he groaned blissfully. "It really _is_ the flour."

Roxanne restrained herself from smacking him on his stupid blue head.


End file.
